


I feel fine

by thelogicalloganipus (awkwardkermitfrog)



Category: Sanders Sides
Genre: Apocalypse, End of the World, Gen, tw death, tw overdose, tw suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 16:24:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14109339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardkermitfrog/pseuds/thelogicalloganipus
Summary: I needed to work out some emotions. So I wrote this.Warnings: Major Character Death, violence, overdose, death, suicide





	I feel fine

**May 10th, 2026.**

 

_ Fire, burning. I can smell the burning. He’s screaming and I’m just standing there. I want water, I want some way to soothe him. He’s screaming and I’m just standing there, I’m just letting it happen. I start to run to him but my body won’t move. I start to yell for him but my lungs won’t work, I’m choking on soot, and he’s still screaming, collapsing right in front of me, dying in pain and agony. I am useless. _

 

_ I am next. _

 

“Logan buddy? You awake?”

I felt my shoulders shake. Somewhere distantly, someone was touching my shoulder. Someone was asking me a question. 

“Logan, come on, wake up.”

I felt heavy, so heavy. I could have sank right through the floor towards the center of the earth to be pulled through to the other side. I’d ask the people what time it was and they’d watch me float away into the sky, drifting further away from the floor, further from my blankets.

“He’s probably hungover.”

“Let him sleep, Pat. Come on.”

There was a shuffle of shoes on concrete and a squeak, and suddenly my pounding head and I were left in solemn silence. I shut my eyes, tightly, and brought a hand to my temple, rubbing out the tension, trying to ignore the reflection of daylight against the window onto the floor. It was strange to think that sunlight could still be golden, still warm. It was strange to think that I was comfortable right now in my blanket even if I shivered a little from time to time. I thought, unfocused and confused. What day was it? My brain, full of bits of fluff and fuzz, felt clouded and covered in cobwebs. I sat up and reached for my glasses before turning to the calendar on the wall. It hung there, staring back at me. Neither of us had anything to say to the other. I stood up and stretched, getting a marker out of my pocket and marking off May 9th. It was May 10th.

May 10th.

I looked at the circled date above, where the days had started and took a deep breath before walking out of the garage and towards the inside of the house.

  
  


**April 26th, 2026.**

 

_ I was just preparing my dinner when I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. I pulled it out and hit the small green button with my thumb, holding onto my bag of rice in my right hand.  _

_ “Good evening Virgil.” _

_ “Logan, you gotta turn on your T.V. Now. Right now.”  _

_ I set down my bag of rice and walked into my living room, flicking on the device and listening to Virgil’s quick, anxious breathing. “I’m turning it on now. Are you alright?” _

_ “No. I’m not. No one is. Is it on? Are you watching the news?” _

_ I watched as a ticker ran across the bottom of channel 13, reading carefully, my stomach suddenly full of bile. “Yes. I’m watching the news.” _

_ “It’s on every channel.” Virgil’s voice was restricted. “I’m scared, Logan.” _

_ “Would you like me to come over?” I asked, scanning the ticker, listening halfway to the woman on the air. My heart hummed. _

_ “Yeah. Please. Patton’s coming. I can’t get ahold of Roman. Call him if you can. Call him as soon as you can, please. I’m going to try him again here too.” _

_ “I will be over shortly.” I replied. “One of us will get ahold of Roman. It will be alright, Virgil.” _

_ “No.” He replied. “It won’t. _

_ I didn’t know what to say. _

_ With that, Virgil hung up.  _

_ I sat down in front of the television on my floor, staring at the words as they marched across the screen. I felt deaf to the woman speaking, her mouth moving, buzzing filling my ears as my muscles stiffened. _

_ “Asteroid headed towards earth…. Impact imminent…. Impact estimated for four weeks…. Asteroid size compared to the size of the moon…. Transgenerational threat level…. Trump calls asteroid fake news… Asteroid confirmed by China, United States, and Japan…. Transgenerational threat level….” _

_ Dinner didn’t matter anymore. _

  
  
  


I went up to the door to the kitchen and paused, listening to the others converse, swallowing something I didn’t know was in my stomach before I opened the door and everyone paused, staring at me.

“Good morning.” I strode into the kitchen then stopped, unsure what to do with myself. 

“Good morning.” Patton replied, looking away from me a moment.

“Where is Roman?” I asked, sitting down at the kitchen counter. I ran my fingers along the edge of the table, wondering about the people who had lived here before.

“He’s still in the living room.” Virgil answered this time.

There was a pause where the tick of a clock should have been. I swallowed, throat dry.

“I apologize for last night.” I said quietly. I thought about the alcohol, the screaming. The burning and screaming in my head. I leaned forward, rubbing my temple, shaking my head. “I should be remaining sober.”

“We’re all having a rough time, Lo.” Virgil answered, voice quiet. 

I took a deep breath, looking up at him as he sat on the counter, not looking at me. I nodded. I let the silence sit.

“Good morning, my fellow friends!” Roman’s voice came into the kitchen, booming. If I had not had a headache, I would have laughed at the contrast. “My, this kitchen is drab today!”

“Good morning Roman.” Patton replied. I noticed he was the only one smiling. “It’s good to see someone’s still feeling chipper.”

I noticed a shadow flash across Roman’s face before he nodded, grinning. “How are you feeling, Logan?”

“I have a headache which is my own doing.” I said quietly.

Roman nodded. He opened a cabinet, shut it, and opened another one, causing Virgil to duck. “My, my… my.” He muttered, searching through to the back, shaking his head. “My, I believe it’s time we go out and fetch ourselves some breakfast.”

“I agree.” Patton nodded. “I think there’s an old CVS out here somewhere.”

“This is what we get for picking an abandoned place.” Roman said quietly. Virgil drew his hands around his knees. He and I exchanged a look, remembering the blood on the dirt outside, the gas left in the truck, the signs of something ary. We looked away from each other.

“It is true. There are few places to scavenge from.” I concurred. I looked again at Virgil, then stood up from the table. “I believe we should go out and get something, if we can. I can take the truck.”

“I’ll go with you.” Virgil replied, sliding off the table.

“I think we should go as well.” Roman crossed his arms and I saw the shadow flicker across his face again. “I mean, after all, what is there to do here?”

“We could ride in the back of the truck.” Patton added, smiling. 

I glanced at Virgil, searching his face for an opinion. He gave me a small nod.

“Alright. If that’s what you wish, and if you believe it will be safe.” I walked over to the hook next to the back door, getting the keys, and turned to them. “Better sooner than later. Let’s go.”

* * *

  
  


The truck hummed and bumped along the road that had previously been in Florida. It contained a few things that turned out to be import, such as a portable radio, a long distance walkie-talkie set, and a first aid kit with bandages. From time to time I glanced over at Virgil and how he leaned against the window, looking bored, staring out into the wild of the trees. I mostly kept my eyes on the road, trying to get around cars that had been stopped and other various debris, trying to stay focused, but I couldn’t stop looking at him.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked, coming to a stop at an intersection, looking carefully.

“Nothing.” Virgil muttered. 

The truck hummed. 

“Are you sure nothing is on your mind?” I asked again, driving carefully around an old minivan.

“Well. I don’t know if I can say it.” Virgil admitted. 

“You can tell me anything you do or do not wish to tell me, Virgil.” I replied simply.

Virgil sighed, dramatically, causing me to look at him. He looked away, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… why are we even getting food?” 

“What do you mean?” I felt my grip tighten on the steering wheel.

“It’s less than a week away. Why not… save ourselves from… we’re gonna burn alive. And I’d just…” I watched as Virgil shook his head and shifted his position, looking at me. He was looking at me the way that Roman and Patton had began to look at me, the look that was reliant on me for an answer, for guidance. “I mean.  _ Rationally  _ putting it. Is there even any point to going out today? We could get killed, we could get robbed, the truck could get stolen - and this is Florida, which is also full of poisonous, dangerous things. We’re about to burn alive, or  _ worse,  _ die from starvation - or suffocation - so why not take another way out? We could-”

“Enough.” I found myself pulling the truck into a Dollar General parking lot, nostrils flaring. “I do not appreciate you mentioning this idea. Do not mention it to the others. We are going to stay alive. And that is final.”

Virgil said nothing and opened his door, sliding out. I took a deep breath and took the keys out of the ignition.

“This place sells food, right?” Patton asked. I wonder if he realized that I could read the hunger on his face. My own stomach churned and growled.

“They do. Did.” Roman nodded, walking up to the door slowly. He peered in before pushing against the sliding contraption, opening it. 

“It is strange to think an entire society was built on money less than a month ago.” I said in awe. “Remarkable.”

“Guys, be quiet.” Virgil whispered. Each of us nodded, stepping gingerly into the store.

A few lights flickered, but most remained off, casting strange confusing shadows here and there. The aisles were high and the ground was covered in boxes of various things, trinkets, makeup, and other items. I found myself tiptoeing over the edges of things, looking carefully at the destruction along the floor, ignoring the signs left by people in a rush. We branched out, cautious, stepping behind shelves and over the chaos. The silence was collective and unsettling, broken only by the sounds of other breathing and feet pattering against the floor.

I looked down the medicine aisle and considered what Virgil had suggested, biting my cheek hard for even thinking about it. There remained various pills, including melatonin, NyQuill, and generic sleep aids. The selection was slim.

A long time ago, I’d read about a woman who had overdosed and survived. I had expected to read that it was like falling asleep, but the woman had described a horrible sickness, painful vomiting, and feverish convulsions. “Everyone says that it’s just like going to sleep. But it isn’t. It’s like being dragged through hell.” She’d said. The article had been written to discourage people from taking a similar path to end their lives; she had gone on to make a full recovery from her depression, have a happy life and a family. Now, though, the part that stuck out to me was the sickness and pain involved in her near death. Taking sleeping pills would not be as easy as Virgil made it sound.

“Hey, Logan, are you alright?” 

I tuned to Patton and away from my thoughts, nodding. “I’m fine.” 

“Okay, well… come on, we should hurry up.” Patton gave me a look, that strange concerned look he got on his face when I became too pensive and began to turn and walk down the aisle. I followed, stepping over another box of some item whose label had been torn off. I did not let myself look back at the sleeping pills.

I glanced down the aisle at Virgil as Patton walked up ahead of me. I gestured for him to come along and followed. The store seemed quieter back here, but there was an odor that I could not place. I held my hand over my nose at the growing stench, gagging. Towards the back, a barricade had been made of varying items, boxes and crates. I felt my skin tingle, something moved from my center of gravity. I moved my hand forward to Patton’s shoulder to stop him, to stop the hammering in my ribs, but he moved just out of my grasp.

A second later, there was a yell. It was such a boom in the quiet that it ripped through me, almost making me stumble. The boxes tumbled and from behind them came, sliding and falling, a large man with wild red eyes and a long, untrimmed beard. 

Patton’s eyes went wide. He stumbled backward, sideways, hitting his hip on a shelf.

“Patton!” 

I heard Virgil shriek. 

Somewhere else I heard Roman scream. He sounded terrified, utterly terrified. I snapped towards him, trying to determine where to go, who to run to. 

“This is my store!” The man bellowed. “Mine! Mine mine mine mine!”

“We just wanted some food. We just wanted some food. Please calm down.” Patton backed up and I watched, fists clenched, completely frozen, as the man rounded on Patton.

“This store is mine! I claimed it!” He shrieked. He was gesturing wildly, holding what looked like a knife in his hand, something old and rusted that he gripped by the blade. “I claimed it and you can’t have it! You can’t you can’t! You can’t!

I noticed for the first time in the dim light there was something dried in his beard, on his clothes. I urged my body to move, but it would not respond.

Virgil ran forward, past me, and pushed the man, shoving him, causing him to stumble but not fall. The man ignored him; his focus was on Patton. He growled and howled and lunged, Patton dodging him, still trying to calm him

“Please - we’re leaving! We’re sorry! Please calm down, we’re sorry! My name is Patton, we’re not- please!” 

I tried to move towards his yells, towards Virgil who was searching the shelves for a weapon, towards something, anything.

Something pulled at my shoulder. I felt myself watching from above, circling, body frozen below.

“We have to go, we have to go, please, Logan look at me!” 

Roman’s voice was in my ear. I turned towards him, eyes glazed, body stiff.

“There’s - he’s - he’s a murderer, we have to go! We have to go  _ right now _ !” 

I noticed the tears on Roman’s face, the sheer terror. I did not move.

Roman shook his head at me, frustrated, and then we heard another scream. Roman ran forward towards the man, Patton and Virgil. My knees buckled. I sat on the floor in shock, watching, not comprehending. Everything was moving too fast and I was thick and underwater. Roman hit the man with something. Patton fell. My brain wouldn’t let my body move. Virgil screamed, a sound like nothing I’d ever heard, an agonizing sound. Patton coughed and sputtered. The man fell, Virgil on top of him, screaming, hitting him with his bare hands, but Patton did not get up. Roman pulled on Virgil, pulling him away as he struggled to get back and keep hitting him.

I twitched my pinky finger. I could not breathe.

“I can’t breathe.” I whispered. “I can’t breathe! I can’t-” No sound. I wasn’t making any sound.

Suddenly I was being pulled by Roman, body moving along, walking fast. Virgil was trying to carry Patton but failing. I stumbled as Roman let go of me and went back, picking up Patton and slinging him over his shoulder. Sunlight struck my eyes and I found myself in the back of the truck, still observing from above, watching myself do nothing. My body was not my own. I was floating somewhere, trying to find gravity, yelling something no one could hear. 

I watched myself in the back of the truck next to Virgil, who did not look at me, the wind blowing through our hair and whipping around our faces. I did not shiver. I did not stir. I stared.

  
  


**May 12th, 2026.**

 

_ Five days remain. _

 

Patton was breathing. That was good. That was something.

I liked watching his chest rise and fall, shaking a little. I liked resting my head gently on it and listening to his heartbeat, which was steady and slow. I liked this because I didn’t have to look at his face. I didn’t have to look at the look of distress on it, the way he’d look at me sometimes with confusion before closing his eyes again, the questions he’d ask me about where he was that I couldn’t answer. If I listened to his heartbeat I didn’t have to listen to his moans, the small, painful noises that came involuntarily out of his throat. If I listened to his heartbeat, I knew he was still there with me.

If I wasn’t looking at his face, I didn’t have to hear that voice in my head: 

_ You watched.  _

_ You waited. _

_ You did nothing. _

I stood up and walked out of the room, closing the door gently so as not to wake him, and went into the living room, where Roman and Virgil sat, a deck of cards out in front of them.

“Go fish.” Roman said quietly, staring at his hand.

“Hm.” Virgil replied. He looked at me and his nostrils flared before he reached his hands in the cards, pulling from the pile, shaking his head, pulling another card. “How is he?”

“He’s asleep for now.” I answered, looking at my thumbs. “Sometimes he wakes up and asks me where he is. He’s delirious.”

“I don’t blame him.” Virgil muttered. I could tell he was remembering taking Patton into the house, the blood all over his stomach, the lolling of his head. We all were. He took a deep breath and stood up, setting his cards down. “I gotta use it.”

Roman and I watched him walk across the room and towards the bathroom, shutting the door. 

I sighed, shaking my head. I looked up at Roman, who was looking at his cards, thumbing the carpet. “Would you be so kind as to tell me a story?”

“You want me to tell you a story?” Roman looked up at me, eyebrows raised. “Are you serious? You?”

“Yes.” I nodded, surprised at myself. “I may not understand what you’re saying at times, but I could use the distraction of fiction, as there are no scientific books in his house.”

“Hmm. Alright, I’ll take that.” Roman nodded, placing his cards into a neat pile and setting them down. His eager mind began to work, a smile creeping over his face. “What should the story be about?”

“A rabbit.” I said, leaning back on the edge of the couch. “Why rabbits are the way they are.”

“Ah. Well you see, it started with one rabbit. His name was Peter. And he was very clever.” Roman began, leaning back and well, looking at the still clicking clock on the far wall. “Peter could get through all the fences he needed to, and before there were fences, he could evade all the predators. He was not fast, but he was tricky, as he needed to be to get his food.”

Virgil returned from the bathroom and sat down, looking at the look on Roman’s face and immediately laying back, knees bent, hands on his chest. 

Roman continued. “There was an animal who became very angry with Peter. He knew that Peter had gotten into his garden many times. He had to do something about it.

One day, this animal - he was a fox, his name was -”

“George.” Virgil cut in, grinning.

“That is a terrible name for a fox.” Roman scoffed, shaking his head. 

“Georgina.” Virgil snickered. I found myself smiling a little.

Roman huffed. “Fine. George. Or Georgina. I’m going to say his name is George, even if it’s absolutely terrible.” 

Virgil put his hand to his mouth, giggling, and then let out a long breath. “I’m sorry, you were talking about how George was mad at Peter.” 

I looked Roman in the low light of the candles we had lit, at the angles of his face and the shadows on the wall. 

“Right. Well, George decided one day he had had enough. He worked very hard on his garden, after all, and it was for his family. That awful rabbit had no business stealing his vegetables - even if George and his family didn’t much care for them. They were his.”

“Why did he grow vegetables?” I asked, tilting my head. “He’s a carnivore.”

“It’s a story, Logan. Parts of it just are the way they are.” Roman replied, shaking his head. He gave me a look and I glanced at Virgil, who began giggling, stifling his giggles with his hands until Roman made another huffing sound and he bit his index finger, trying to look innocent. 

“Anyway. Let’s continue without any more interruptions.

George went to the cottage in the wood where a witch lived and knocked on her door. When she opened it he asked her, ‘Can you please give me sharp teeth and claws to kill the rabbit? I would like him to stop ravaging my garden.’

The witch considered the fox. She said, ‘Your tail is beautiful. If you trade it to me, I will give you a potion which will cause you to grow sharp fangs and claws and you will easily kill the rabbit.’

George was sad. He loved his tail. He turned around and went home. When he got home, though, he found that his garden had been ravaged again! He was angry and went inside to talk to his wife.”

“He has a wife?” I interrupted, surprised.

“Yes, Logan. Pay attention. He has a family.” Roman said haughtily. “His wife’s name is... Loretta.”

“I like that. Loretta.” Virgil said quietly. He had long since closed his eyes, letting the story wash over him. 

“Loretta. Anyway. Loretta listened to her husband, George, who said,

‘Oh Loretta! I am tired of our garden being stolen from by a stupid rabbit. I hate Peter! Tomorrow I am going to go back to the witch’s cabin and trade her my tale for sharp teeth. Then I can kill the rabbit and we can eat him up for dinner.’”

“Wait, why didn’t he already have claws and sharp teeth? And didn’t you say he wasn’t a carnivore?” I asked, suddenly realizing.

“Please don’t interrupt! He doesn’t have them because it’s a fairy tale.” Roman looked at me, frustrated. “You asked for a story, this is what you get.”

“I am afraid I do not understand.” I repeated. I spoke gently. “Please explain these things to me.”

Roman sighed. “Maybe… in this world, foxes were not always hunters. Maybe his wife doesn’t have claws and sharp teeth either. This story is how they came to be that way. Does that make sense?”

“I suppose.” I nodded, thoughtful. “Continue.”

“Okay. So. Loretta listened to her husband and agreed with him - let’s say that foxes once had long tails like snakes here - but what they didn’t know was that Peter was outside the window, also listening. He was terrified! Immediately he went down to the witch’s cabin. In those days rabbits had small feet, so he did not hop, and it took him a long time to get there. 

When Peter got to the witch’s door, he wailed. 

‘Oh witch! The fox is going to gobble me up! Please give me long feet so that I may be fast and run away from him!’

The witch considered the rabbit. She said, ‘I will give you long feet if you will give me your tail.’ 

In those days, rabbits had long tails - all the animals had long tails like snakes.”

“Why snakes?” I asked, drawing my hands around my knees. 

“In this world, snakes were the first animals in the world.” Roman answered. He looked like he was getting used to my questions. “May I can continue?” 

“Yes.” 

“Alright. So Peter agreed very quickly to give his tail to the witch. He wanted to live, after all.”

“Who doesn’t?” I muttered, glancing at Virgil.

“Well… right.” Roman nodded, looking at me with an interested expression. “Peter agreed to give his tail to the witch and she took it and gave him a potion which gave him long feet. The long feet made him quick. The next day, as he had said he would, George the fox went to the witch and gave her his tail - she left enough of his that it was very poofy, as fox tails are now - and George went on his way to kill Peter. 

And the two have been chasing each other ever since.”

The last words hung over us, the stillness of reality setting back in. 

“Well?” Roman asked, looking at me expectantly.

“Well… what?” I crossed my arms.

“Did you like the story?” 

I frowned. “Well… it was well told. But there’s one thing I really don’t understand.” 

“What’s that?” Roman’s voice was hesitant.

“Why didn’t the rabbit just learn to plant a garden?” 

Roman and I stared at each other for a long moment before the silence was broken by Virgil’s snore. I looked over at his peaceful face, his relaxed expression. “I’m going to go check on Patton.” 

“I’ll go with you.” Roman said quietly, standing up. He paused and looked at me, looking somber. “I want to be around him as much as I can right now. I mean sometimes you need a distraction, but… well.”

“I understand.” I said softly. 

The two of us walked down the hall into the old bedroom where we had laid him. To my relief, Patton appeared to be asleep, face peaceful, glasses by his pillow. I watched as Roman bent down and kissed his forehead gently before getting my own blanket out of the corner and settling in to sleep on the floor. 

  
  
  


_ I can hear him screaming, but I’m trapped. I’m trying to climb over boxes but they keep falling down, keep falling over me.  _

_ “Patton!” I call out. My voice echoes. “Patton!” _

_ He screams.  _

_ I reach the top of the pile and see Roman and Virgil there, holding Patton. Virgil turns and glares at me. He goes to yell but is suddenly swallowed up by fire. _

  
  


**May 13th, 2026.**

 

_ Four days remain. _

 

My eyes opened slowly, exhausted, the blurry ceiling hovering over me. I sat up and reached for my glasses. Next to me I saw a pair of legs, standing over Patton’s bed, leaning over him. I stood up and saw Virgil, patting Patton’s forehead with a cool cloth, looking pensive.

“How is he?” I asked, keeping my voice low. 

“He has a fever.” Virgil said quietly. “He might be infected.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” I asked, glancing around the room for Roman, who also appeared to be awake already.

“I think that’s obvious.” Virgil pressed the washcloth into Patton’s forehead, not looking at me. 

I looked away and crossed my arms, shaking my head. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t mean for him to get-”

“Stabbed?” Virgil asked viciously, looking over at me. “For him to bleed out slowly? It's a miracle we were able to bandage him without your help. It’s a miracle he’s not dead.” 

I nodded, wincing at the words. I considered my response carefully. “It isn’t my fault there was a maniac in there. You can’t very well blame me for that.”

“You didn’t do anything. You just stood there like an idiot.” Virgil hissed. “And we didn’t even have to get food! We could just-”

“Enough with that!” I felt my voice raise and caught myself, glancing at Patton, shaking my head. “We cannot - we will not kill ourselves to avoid greater suffering. I already told you no. End of discussion.” 

“You cannot control what I do with my life.” Virgil spat. “Or my death. I’m in control of that. Not you.”

“I’m in control of it as long as you keep bringing that up, and the answer is no. I will not partake in sitting by and letting you - or Roman or Patton - die.” I returned.

“You’re pathetic.” Virgil whispered, shaking his head. “It was your idea to go to the store. And now it’s your idea that we should burn alive or die from suffocation. The world is over, Logan. It’s the end of the world.  It’s  _ literally _ the end of the world. We are going to die any day now. We can choose to either die a horrible, slow death or a quick one. Logically death is the best option - you should know that.” 

“Why save Patton now?” I threw my hands in the air, pacing, reeling. “Why bother saving him if that’s what you believe?”

Virgil was quiet for a moment. “It would have been too painful for him. He deserves better.”

I shook my head. “You want him to overdose? Overdosing isn’t quick. And it’s painful. It’s not just falling asleep, Virgil. It can make you incredibly sick, and you might not die. Why do you want this? It isn’t even feasible.” 

“There’s that CVS - where Roman got the medicine and bandages on the way back. That’ll have strong stuff. Maybe morphine or something.” Virgil sat on the window sill, wringing the washcloth in his hands, chewing on his lip. “I’m not dying in a fiery deathball. And I don’t want that for you, either.” 

I let the silence hang there for a moment, sighing. “Why are you so afraid of pain, Virgil?” 

Virgil didn’t answer. He let the question hang there, waiting for me to say something else. I felt blank.

The door opened and Virgil and I looked up to see Roman holding a plate of crackers, looking at us awkwardly. 

“I’m sorry that it isn’t much, but I found some peanut butter, and I figured… well, maybe… we could have a meal together.” Roman looked between us, not completely oblivious to our tension. “Of course… I can come back. I can just hang out in the living room.”

“Nah, we should eat.” Virgil slid off the window sill and set the washcloth down. “Do we still have water?”

“We have some sprite.” Roman replied, setting the tray on the edge of the bed by Patton’s feet. 

“That sounds good. I’ll go and fetch it.” I replied. I exited the room, running my hands on my jeans, trying to get the sweat off my palms.

  
  
  


_ You stood there. _

_ You watched.  _

_ You did nothing. _

 

_ You can do something now. _

 

I stared out the window of the truck, sitting there in the driveway, keys in my lap. I turned them over and wondered at the heat of the sun. I closed my eyes and thought about how pleasant it would be to take a shower, to wash my hair and then get out and snuffle with a towel, book on my lap. I watched a cat walk by in my rearview mirror and felt a pang in my chest as it sauntered by, going to catch its dinner. It had no idea what was happening. It would die in agony, but without any clue why. I looked away from it, trying to shut out the sounds in my head.

The truck door swung open and I jumped only to see Roman climbing in, swinging the creaky door shut behind him. “Hey, compadre. You’ve been out here a long time. You okay?”

I stared out the window, still thumbing the keys in my lap. “I don’t know.”

“I’m not.” Roman admitted, nodding. He seemed subdued. “I’m definitely not.”

“I just- I was thinking about something.” 

I looked at Roman, who was watching me, waiting. 

“Something difficult.” I said quietly. 

“Okay.” Roman nodded, still in listening mode. “I mean, I think we’re all thinking about some hard stuff, it’s natural right now. End of the world and all.” 

“I know. It’s - it’s not just that.” I shook my head and let out a long, low breath. “If you could stop it. If you didn’t have to live through it. If you had a way out. Would you take it?”

“Hm. You mean if there was an alternative to…”

“Dying in the asteroid impact.” I said quietly. “Or… would you try to make your way in the new world?”

“Well, I suppose I was just expecting to die a valiant death when it hit. Painful, maybe, but… that’s what I was expecting.” Roman fiddled with the edge of the seat, shrugging. “I hadn’t thought about any way out of it.” 

“But you’re ready for death?” I asked, looking at him now.

For a long moment, Roman looked at me as the sun began to set behind the little house. He looked out at the sunset, face warmly illuminated by the glow of twilight. “Logan, do you think any animal besides a human is really aware that it will die?” 

“I don’t know.” I admitted. I thought about the cat. “I suppose that it has an innate sense that it needs to survive. That drives it to hunt and eat and breed. But I don’t know that it truly comprehends that it will stop existing.”

“It’s ready for death all the time. We humans, we have this strange perception that we are immortal - either bodily, or by soul. We aren’t. We live, we are. We die. I don’t know that I’m, as you asked, ready for death. I do know that it will come for me whether I am ready or not. I know that in the coming days I may die in great pain, but there is nothing I do about that. If I do not die tomorrow, I will die soon, or later. It is how it is.” Roman looked thoughtful for a moment. “I don’t know that I want to die. But it isn’t up to me. The asteroid is coming.”

“It is.” I concurred. 

“Are you ready for death?” Roman’s voice made my stomach turn, made my hands tremble. 

“I don’t know.” I admitted. “Virgil is.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” 

I looked at Roman, surprised. “Why not?”

“Well… that’s who he is. He’s spent half his life already thinking about death.” Roman let out a strangely happy sigh. “I envy that.” 

“Me too.” I nodded. 

“I think we should go inside.” Roman patted my leg. “Come on.

  
  


**May 14th, 20126.**

 

_ Three days remain. _

  
  


I sat by Virgil and Roman on the edges of Patton’s bed, chatting, when we heard something. A stir of blankets, a shift, a groan.

“Patton?” I asked, leaning forward, over him. 

Patton’s eyes fluttered. He closed his eyes, breathing hard. “Hi.”

“Good afternoon, dad.” Virgil said quietly. 

“Is he okay? Is he up?” Roman whispered. 

I looked over him, looking at his large, confused eyes. “Patton, do you know where you are?”

“I’m in the nurse’s office.” Patton replied. His lips were dry. I placed my hand on his forehead and felt heat and sweat. 

“That’s right Patton. You have a fever.” I replied, feeling his cheeks. 

“Are you guys sick too? Where’s Mrs. Chancer?” Patton asked quietly, looking around. I noticed he was still breathing raggedly. 

“I have the flu.” Virgil replied. He pulled up a chair that had been sitting in the room and sat by the bedside, taking Patton’s hand in his own. I observed the gesture and felt my own hands frozen in place. 

“I’m - I’ll get you some water.” Patton replied. He didn’t move. 

“Patton, do you need some water?” Roman asked, leaning towards him.

“He’s probably dehydrated.” I said quietly, leaning against the wall by the bed. “I think all we have is sprite.”

“It’s better than nothing.” Roman said quietly, getting up and walking out of the room.

“Roman?” Patton asked. His voice was weak, strained. 

“Roman will be right back.” I answered. 

Patton, looking right at me, said, “Roman, please tell me a story.” 

“He thinks you’re Roman.” Virgil muttered.

I nodded. I thought, glancing around. “Okay. Once upon a time there was a little boy who lived in a kingdom far far away.”

“What was his name?” Patton asked, staring at the ceiling. His eyes were unfocused, drifting. 

I swallowed. “His name was Patton.”

“That’s my name!” Patton’s joy was still there, weak as he was. “That’s my name.”

“That’s right.” I said quietly. I glanced at Virgil, desperate for an idea. 

Virgil perked up. “The boy had heard that there was a unicorn in the forest.”

“Right, a unicorn!” I nodded vigorously as Roman came back into the room, carrying a warm bottle of sprite. “A unicorn that would grant him three wishes. The boy was poor, and he wanted his mother to have money to live and eat well, because he was a kind boy and he loved his mother very much.”

“I miss my mom.” Patton said quietly. I watched him close his eyes, watched a tear roll down to his ear. 

“His mom was also sick, and he needed the unicorn to heal her.” Virgil piped in. 

“Yes - so he went into the woods with some - things. And they were important things.” I said, thinking quickly. “Like a candle. And a blanket.”

“Oh that’s good.” Patton said quietly. “I’m cold, Roman.”

Roman stood up from the corner of the room and picked up the blanket I’d been sleeping under, draping it over Patton, tucking it in at his sides. Patton murmured, looking distressed at the movement, eyes closed tightly. I reached for his head again and turned to Roman. Roman nodded, exiting the room again.

“Patton went into the woods and walked for a long time. After a while he came to a stream where he stopped to drink. But then he saw in the reflection of the stream - the unicorn.” I racked my brain, trying to remember stories I’d read. 

“It was pure white.” Virgil chimed in. “It glowed like fresh snow.” 

“Oh.” Patton whispered. His breathing was still ragged. “Lovely.”

I put my head to his chest and took a deep breath hearing his heart lurch and struggle, then looked up at Roman entering the room with a washcloth doused in sprite. He pressed it onto Patton’s forehead and gave me a pained look. 

“So - the unicorn.” My voice felt choked; I swallowed around the tightness in my throat and started again. “The unicorn looked up at Patton and said, ‘What do you wish, my child? I can see that you are pure of heart, and I will grant you three wishes for finding me.’”

Virgil shot me a look, shook his head, and rested his head on Patton’s hand.

“Patton thought about it only a moment. ‘I wish for my mother to be well. I wish for my mother and I to always have enough money to eat. And I wish that the whole village was prosperous and well off, so that no one would go hungry.’

‘It is done.’ Said the unicorn. Patton watched him go back into the woods.”

“Where’s Logan?” Patton asked, quietly, interrupting the end of the story. 

“I’m right here, Patton.” I felt tears stinging at my eyes. I reached forward tentatively and touched Patton’s other hand. It felt strange to touch, to feel skin on my skin, and I froze up slightly at the change. 

“Logan, you’d really love this story about this unicorn Roman’s been telling me.” Patton said softly. His eyes were drifting shut, weak and tired. Roman and I exchanged a look and I felt my stomach tightening. 

“I bet I would.” I agreed. I let a tear roll down my cheek. “I really bet I would.” 

  
  


_ Fire. Fire everywhere. _

_ Patton being pushed into the fire by the man with the wild beard. _

_ Patton screaming, Patton burning- _

 

I shot forward, covered in sweat, panting. I looked next to me and saw that Patton was still asleep. On the floor nearby, Virgil was curled up on Roman, no blanket over them. 

I pulled myself quietly out of bed and pulled the top most blanket off of Patton, draping it over the pair gently. Virgil stirred slightly, but Roman made no noises or movements. 

I put on my glasses and tiptoed out of the room to the garage, where I marked off days. When the sun rose, it would be March 15th, and two days would remain. 

 

_ You can do something now. _

 

I pulled the truck out into the early morning, looking at the clock that still worked in the dashboard and saw it was 4:11am. I took a deep breath. I drove. I got lost. I found the pharmacy.

“I’m not doing this. I’m not doing this.” I whispered, pulling into the CVS.

“It’s not okay that I’m here.” I said to myself, climbing over the counter towards the pharmaceuticals. 

I pulled out different pills - lithium, hydroxaxine, hydrocodine, lunesta, zoloft. I read side effects. I moved quickly. I found a powerful sleep aid. I found some powerful painkillers. I breathed quickly.

I pulled some old Ensure off a shelf, shaking it, and shook my head.

“I’m not putting this into my pocket. I’m not putting this in a bag.” I muttered. “I’m not. I’m not. I’m not.”

I did.

  
  
  


**May 15th, 2026.**

  
  


_ Two days remain. _

  
  


Roman and Virgil sat across from each other on the floor next to Patton’s bed. Patton was still waking up sometimes, still asking where he was, but for the moment his eyes were closed. 

I stood up and walked out of the room and into the kitchen where four bottles of Ensure were. I stood up and carried them back to the room, feeling very strange.

“I found these. They’re good for calories.” I said, passing one to Roman and Virgil. “One of us will have to give Patton his.”

“I can.” Virgil said, standing up. I watched as he began to gently shake Patton awake, the distress on Patton’s face as he was awoken from much needed sleep. I watched as Virgil tilted Patton’s head forward, tipping the drink into his mouth, and Patton swallowed slowly.

“This stuff is awful, nerd.” Roman shuddered at the powdery taste.

“I agree. It’s pretty bad.” I said, tipping my own back. I swallowed, drinking as quickly as I could, chugging the entire bottle.

“Damn, hungry there?” Virgil asked, tilting Patton’s head up again. 

“A bit.” I felt something humming in my stomach. I watched Virgil carefully as he sat down, opening his own drink. I watched him drink his, pause, look at me, and then begin to drink faster, quickly finishing his own.

“You guys should savor it.” Roman said, shaking his head at us. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Virgil said quietly. He swallowed and shook his head. 

“I wish we had a television right now.” Roman muttered, leaning back against a dresser against the wall. “That would be most pleasant.”

“It’s so weird how fast everything changed.” I said quietly, thumbing my ensure. “Entire industries, gone overnight.”

“The internet crashed.” Virgil said, nodding, wistful.

“No more texting.” I agreed. “Not that I ever cared for it.”

“No more television. And then the military trying to maintain order, but most of them just leaving because… what was the point?” Roman gestured, shaking his head. “I mean, truly, there was nothing to keep in order any more.”

“No point in maintaining it.” Virgil agreed.

“It was very stressful.” I said quietly. I stretched up and looked up at Patton, who was asleep again, breathing quiet. “I prefer the order.”

“You would.” Virgil said, smiling. 

“I miss some of it too.” Roman admitted. “I mean, I miss being able to just kick back, take a hot shower… there were things to worry about. Retail was terrible, but I was a good salesman. Now that job doesn’t seem so bad.” 

“I don’t really miss being a barista.” Virgil muttered. “People are dicks before they get their coffee. What about you, Logan, do you miss being a teacher?”

“Sometimes.” I admitted. “I’m not sure I was very attuned to teaching, though. I never had much control over my classroom.”

“You?” Virgil looked at me incredulously. He shook his head, leaning back against the wall, closing his eyes. I felt acid in my stomach.

“Yes, me. I was strict, but the students often teased me for my social ineptitude.” I shrugged. “I was more cut out for researching, not for teaching.”

“Hmm.” Roman nodded, looking sleepy. I felt my own eyes begin to drift shut and struggled to keep them open. My arm felt heavy. “Say, Logan… I’m very tired. Can I sleep up there with Patton tonight?” 

“You can.” I nodded and watched as Roman stood up. He stumbled, gripped the edge of the bed, and then climbed up, body movements clumsy. Patton didn’t stir.

“What changed your mind?” Virgil whispered, laying down on the floor, barely audible.

I glanced up at Patton, tears in my eyes. 

“Do you want to lay here with me?” Virgil asked, holding up the blanket on the floor.

I nodded and crawled, also moving clumsily, towards him.

For a long moment the two of us laid there, not leaning into each other. I closed my eyes, feeling heavy. Above us, we heard Roman snore, already asleep.

“Thank you.” Virgil whispered. 

I nodded. I felt tears in my eyes and then, a moment later, Virgil’s arms around me. I began to sob, uncontrollable sobs, so opposite to who I wanted to be, how I wanted to be. None of that mattered anymore. 

“I’m not going to wake up, am I, Virgil? I’m not going to wake up. Oh my god what have I done, oh my god.” I muttered, tears streaming down my face. My body felt like it was made of lead. I felt Virgil squeeze me, felt wetness on my shoulder, and turned towards him, wrapping him in my arms, squeezing him tightly, more than I knew I could even hug another human. Fears and anxieties and stresses poured out of me, something I had been afraid to articulate.

“I’m scared to die too.” Virgil whispered. I felt his tears on my neck and found myself crying harder. 

I nodded. “I’m so scared.”

“I know, Logan.” 

“I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.” I whispered, shaking. “I don’t want to die. What if it’s not like falling asleep?”

“I don’t know, Logan.” 

I felt Virgil bury himself in me, and I cried, harder, gradually losing awareness, my body losing feeling. My stomach churned and I felt violently ill, shaking, weighted down by my body. I shook my head and looked at Virgil, who was unconscious, still holding onto me.

I saw a light, brighter than I had ever seen in my life, come through the window, overtaking everything in the room. I closed my eyes.

I was ready.

**Author's Note:**

> Well... that might be the saddest thing I've ever written.


End file.
